


Game On

by humannature_archivist



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-01
Updated: 2009-07-01
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6636793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humannature_archivist/pseuds/humannature_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the season finale of Trick and Treat, Derren discovers he may have met his match in David Tennant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Human Nature](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Human_Nature). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in January 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [Human Nature collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/humannature/profile).

Focusing on one of the women as she avidly attempted to explain how a sequence of colors, bells, and an abacus had won the game was one of the hardest things Derren Brown had done in a very long time. His eyes kept wanting to slide over to where David Tennant was standing, casually licking fruit juice off his long, slender fingers. Focus, focus… pay attention… he'd made a career out of seeing things no one else did, those little clues that gave people away. So why did this one gangly actor turn his well-tuned mind to pure mush?  
  
At least the experiment itself had been a success. The only one who had shown doubt was David himself and Derren suspected that this was simply because the BBC's top property had little need for the pile of money he'd just been handed. David had gone along with the game with his customary charm, always a good sport, but it had probably been more to help his teammates than anything else.  
  
Derren shook his head and smiled ruefully at himself, hoping it would look mysterious instead of just foolish and continued to try to keep himself from staring at the handsome actor across the room. They could finish up for the night now; his last few voiceovers could be filmed and edited in later. He needed to go home and take a very cold shower. Stupid, stupid, he thought, but he just hadn't been able to resist when he discovered the Doctor Who star was interested in being on his show. Unfortunately, as he'd found out, the man was even more attractive in person than he was on screen; a naturally magnetic personality glowing behind those soulful dark eyes.   
  
Those same intense eyes were staring right at him as David insinuated himself between Derren and the camera crew he was following towards the staging room. Startled, Darren almost bumped into David's thinner, but taller frame.  
  
"Unh, David… I, ummm…" he muttered, even as he chided himself. Couldn't he manage to say something semi-sensible even if he couldn't quite manage intelligent?  
  
"So what was the trick?" David asked, baring white teeth in a trademark boyish grin. Derren's entire body reacted instinctively before his mind could catch up. Damn. He was too old to have his knees turning to jelly just because a man smiled at him. Even if it was this particular man.  
  
Rapidly grabbing at the persona he'd built over the years, he returned the smile, though he doubted his had ever had that much effect on anyone, and shook his head. "Wait and watch."  
  
"Awwww." David stuck out his full lower lip in a pout and leaned those spare inches down to whisper against Derren's ear, his natural Scottish brogue enriching the deep warmth of his voice. "You can tell me! I can keep a secret. I know you were up to something more than making us match colors or whatever."  
  
Even as his groin tightened and he fought the impulse to lean up and do something precipitous with the source of that voice, Derren laughed. "Ahh, but that's the whole point. What do you think was really going on?" He had to know if David could manage to figure more of it out; if the mind behind that pretty face was as nimble as he suspected it was.  
  
David shrugged, ran a hand through his hair, tossing it into disarray. Black strands fell down to frame his big brown eyes while his forehead crinkled. "Dunno. Didn't seem like anything we did had any real effect."  
  
"Exactly!" Derren crowed with delight.   
  
David's wide-eyed look narrowed with suspicion and a hint of irritation.   
  
"What do you mean 'exactly?' Exactly what?"  
  
"You said it," Derren prompted. He was rewarded with a full-on pout and another wave of elegant fingers through thick, dark hair.   
  
"I said…" David paused. "That nothing we did had…"   
  
Derren saw the light go off behind those intent eyes and the same hand that had just run through David's messy hair came to point a long forefinger accusingly at his nose.   
  
"You, you… bastard!" David exclaimed.  
  
Derren couldn't help laughing. "Come on, let me show you something." It was a perfectly reasonable thing, he told himself, to close his hand on David's slender, yet muscular forearm and tug him back towards the now empty white room. David didn't protest, so Derren indulged himself in keeping his hand there, curled just above David's elbow.  
  
When they got there, Derren pulled David around, still holding his arm, and pointed upwards at the red words stenciled onto the ceiling over their heads.  
  
David half-mouthed, half-spoke the words, then swore, then laughed, then shook his head. "You're kidding me! We could've walked out at any time?"  
  
"Any time after the first five minutes."  
  
"But what's the point? Why make us think we had to do all that stuff to earn points? How did we get points anyway? Was it simply for how stupid we looked?" David demanded with mixed amusement and frustration.  
  
"Actually, it was goldfish," Derren answered the last question first.  
  
That apparent nonsequitor left David staring at him. "Goldfish?"  
  
"You got a point every time a goldfish crossed the middle line of a fishtank in the other room." Derren explained.  
  
David proved to have picked up a few inventive obscenities over the years of his acting career.   
  
Derren simply considered that another good excuse to touch David, patting him on the shoulder. "It's about superstitions. That's how they develop. People want – need – to have control over their environment even when they don't. If something good or bad happens, they associate it with something they'd recently done or some object they've come into contact with instead of recognizing that it was simply random. You got points randomly, but like most people you repeated the behaviors that had seemed to be associated with getting them, moving into more and more bizarre patterns as you went along. All of your teammates are convinced they discovered some kind sequence that led to getting points. You were the only one who even questioned that, so well done."  
  
"Ah, sure. Well done despite the fact I'm going to look an absolute fool on national telly when this airs," David complained. "I suppose you got that bit with me hopping around on that ridiculous little orange thing."  
  
Derren chuckled. "We got it all." Another good excuse, this time, to rub his hand along the lean expanse of David's back. "You'll be fine. I'll note you're the only one who came close to figuring it out."  
  
"Oh, thanks very much," David responded sarcastically. He gave Derren a full-on glare. Derren simply hoped the actor didn't notice the effect that look had on him.   
  
"You're welcome," he replied with attempted warm cheer. He could act too, after all.  
  
The glare shifted slightly, narrowed for an instant, then gave way to David's patented soft, doe-eyed innocent look. Derren found himself wondering if he'd really seen that instant of fierce calculation, it had come and gone so quickly.  
  
"So, the least you can do is buy me dinner. I'm starving!" David told him firmly. "The fruit isn't quite cutting it. And I want a good whiskey."  
  
This time it was David's hand on his arm, tugging him out of the room before he even had a chance to sputter a reply.  
  
A suspicion followed him that whatever David had in mind, it was going to be at his expense, figuratively as well as literally. But the temptation was irresistible. And games were Derren's forte; he was simply the best.  
  
Wasn't he?   
  
  
Steak, potato, creme Brule, and three glasses of whiskey later, Derren found himself staring down at David's long, lithe body stretched out on his couch, those huge, liquid eyes gazing up at him, irises and pupils blending into one color, mussed dark bangs of a matching shade covering his forehead, one slender hand resting on the top of the couch, the other resting on a dark-suited thigh, legs spread so that one foot rested on the couch, the other dangling onto the floor. The partial smile hovering on his lips, showing a glimpse of teeth and the flickering tip of tongue, was almost enough to make Derren melt – or do something he'd seriously regret, like get arrested for sexually assaulting a famous actor.   
  
"So, ye gonna stand there all night?" David asked, his accent having thickened over the imbibing of a few drinks. A thick dark eyebrow quirked upwards.   
  
And that was the end of Derren, just the husky sound of that well-trained voice. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd practically leapt or fallen and had landed on top of the man splayed out in front of him. His hands were tangled in heavy, silken hair and his lips were glued to the surprisingly soft, warm ones that were parted just enough to let his tongue penetrate.  
  
The kiss went on for an abrupt, eternal moment as Derren ravished David's mouth and only pulled off long enough to gasp for breath and slant down again. This time, however, he was stopped by a hand pressing upwards against his chest.  
  
He couldn't manage to form words, he was breathing too hard, his heart pounding too erratically, to say something more meaningful than a frustrated groan.  
  
It was met with a triumphant grin that abruptly washed over Derren like a bucket of cold water. David didn't even need to say anything. The "Gotcha" was there in his smile and the twinkle of his eyes.   
  
Derren was up on his feet and across the room as though he'd been burned, his hands splayed out in front of him.   
  
David didn't move a languid muscle from the couch. "Fair play, Derren, a win for a win." His brogue remained thick on the words. "And this is one game I *know* how to play."  
  
Somehow Derren found a response. "Obviously," he retorted.  
  
His 'opponent' didn't seem bothered in the least by the implied insult. David's smile didn't lessen. Instead, he lifted one arm, one hand, and gestured towards Derren, those elegant fingers curling inward, invitingly, pure grace in motion.  
  
"Sooo, want to try for a tie-breaker?" David inquired, again lifting a mobile eyebrow.  
  
It took him a moment to gather himself, but in the end, there was only one answer Derren could give to that.


	2. Chapter 2

When he took David's outstretched hand, Darren was suddenly forced to lean back and bear weight as David pulled up to his feet. The warmth of David's hand still enclosed in his, he had to look up again to meet David's sly smile.  
  
"Am I right in assuming you have a bedroom around here somewhere?" David asked, keeping his grip tight, dark eyes gleaming.   
  
Derren nodded, looking past David's shoulder.   
  
Again it was David who led the way, maintaining his grasp on Derren's hand until they were standing besides Derren's bed, David's back to it as he faced Derren.   
  
He released Derren's hand and spoke in a soft burr. "Your move."  
  
Derren blinked. He felt like he was standing on quicksand. He was completely clueless and that was a highly uncomfortable feeling for him. He was *never* clueless. He was always in charge, always so sure of himself and his understanding of the human psyche. Always in control. Yet in this instant, he felt utterly out of control and he didn't know how to respond.  
  
"What am I supposed to do?" he asked, managing to keep his voice in its normal soothing, steady tones only out of perturbed pride and a bit of habit.   
  
"You're a smart guy, you figure it out," David challenged, a faint, sly smile of amusement lifting one corner of his mouth.  
  
'Not around you,' Darren thought ruefully to himself. 'Around you my brain turns to mush.'   
  
"Hmmm, I think I may have to give you a point for that, just to get you started," David said, startling Derren into realizing he must have spoken those thoughts aloud.  
  
Derren's eyes widened as David shrugged his suit coat off his shoulders, drew it off his arms, delicately dropped it to the floor. Derren's mouth dried up and he licked at his lips as his mind wandered, focused, wandered, focused again - while his eyes remained glued to the more clearly-revealed long lines of David's body. The patterned white shirt clung to his broad shoulders, revealed the hollow of his throat, accentuated the muscles of his chest and the narrowness of his waist.  
  
Derren swallowed hard and then gathered himself up as best he could given the difference in their respective heights. Standing, he'd always be looking up at David which was frustrating at moments like this. He knew, though, how to appear more commanding than he was. It was about how you held yourself, how you spoke, the mastery of vocal tones that made him an expert hypnotist. He forcibly ignored the fact that David was one of the few people in the world whose voice skills could probably match his own.  
  
Calmly, slowly, he asked. "What am I playing for?"   
  
"You're looking at it," was the equally calm reply, lilted as it was by the fluid Scottish accent.   
  
"How do I know if I've won?" he inquired, trying to get as much out of David as he could.  
  
"Oh, you'll know," David replied with smirk and a raised eyebrow.  
  
Excitement tingled across Derren's nerves, though he fought to stay in control of his voice. "Any rules I should know?"  
  
David paused before answering that question, his lips pursing and eyes narrowing slightly in concentration. He spoke in carefully measured tones. "Safeword is... Gallifrey."  
  
"Gallifrey?" Derren repeated. He almost laughed. David did chuckle lightly before speaking again, clearly cutting off any further flow of information.  
  
"Soooo...It's still your move, Derren," he said, shifting into a relaxed, yet somehow expectant stance. Waiting. Waiting for what, Derren wondered. How far would he go with this?   
  
Derren took a deep breath, his mind racing even faster than his heart which was pounding loudly in his chest. His move? His move...   
  
He raised one hand, slowly, almost tentatively, and brushed his fingers over David's cheek.


	3. Chapter 3

Derren tentatively stroked his fingertips over the high arch of David's cheekbone, down to his jawline, then cupped the side of David's face in the palm of his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin, holding and waiting for a second, watching David's dark eyes for some signal. All he received was the faintest of motions, the seeming of David leaning into his hand, so slight that Derren wasn't sure if he felt it solely because he wanted to feel it.   
  
It was still inducement enough for Derren to slide that hand to the back of David's neck, soft tendrils of hair tickling over his fingers as he tightened his grip and pushed downward. He lifted his heels up, leaning forward and closer, so that he could meet David halfway as he drew their mouths together.  
  
This kiss was a soft whisper of contact utterly unlike the fierce, rough one Derren had stolen earlier. A brush of lips, repeated again and then again. David was not stopping him yet not instigating, showing only a passive acceptance. Derren pushed it a bit further, cupping the other side of David's face with his free hand, rubbing the thick, soft pad of his thumb over the corner of David's mouth before kissing him more firmly, still not hard, but with a bit more demand. Again, he got a passive response. He intensified it again, running his tongue over David's lips, kissing him harder, and was rewarded with the parting of David's lips, a taste of his breath.   
  
Derren took advantage, slid his tongue into David's mouth, slowly, teasing out each inch, unable to keep a groan from rumbling through his chest as David gave way yet again, still submissively responsive. It made Derren's groin clench, his body tighten, as an animalistic flood of emotion rushed over him, heated his blood and sped up his heart. It was a need to dominate, to take, to possess, a desperate hunger that he'd held back for so long and now it wanted to sweep him away. David's passive surrender as Derren plundered his mouth only added fuel to the flame.   
  
When Derren stopped the kiss with a bite at David's lower lip, breaking only to draw in a shuddering breath, David gasped too, but managed to speak. "That's worth a few points." He slid his right hand from where it had been resting near Derren's waist, barely touching him, up between them and unfastened three buttons of his shirt, opening it to his waist.   
  
The growl that filled Derren's ears didn't seem to come from his own throat as he was too busy spreading his hands, fingers wide, over David's bare collarbones and sternum. The sound silenced anyway as Derren leaned up to kiss David again. Damn, the man was too bloody tall, but David seemed willing in that still semi-passive way, to bend down into the kiss, offering parted lips, musky, whiskey-coated breath, and a slick, velvety tongue to meet him.   
  
David was built of lean muscle and bone sheathed in silken, warm skin and Derren explored the hollow of his throat, the length of his collarbones, slid the shirt back to curve fingers over his bony shoulders, then down across the solid pectoral muscles and small, peaked nipples of his chest. For the first time, Derren felt a slight shudder rock the body under his hands.   
  
That flash of unmeasured, instinctive rather than submissive response stirred the hungry need in Derren and he repeated the caresses, hands less exploratory and more certain this time, cataloging every touch, every spot that drew a tremble from David's body. He was sensitive under his jaw and Derren, as much as he hated leaving David's mouth, couldn't resist bringing his mouth down to suckle at David's neck, licking in long strokes, then pausing to nibble, reveling in David's increased responsiveness, in the feel of the hands that slowly tightened on his waist and the weight of David's body as it began to lean into him for support.  
  
The rub of fingertips against those hard little nipples won a groan from David who had tilted his head back, pressing into Derren's touch. Derren wanted to laugh, to shout with triumph, but salty slick skin under his tongue was too tempting to leave. He just had to have more. To make this man writhe and moan and scream; to taste and possess every inch of him. He reached up to tangle his fingers in David's thick hair and yank him down into a demanding kiss, then abruptly pressed his palms into David's chest and shoved him hard backwards.  
  
David sprawled out onto the bed with an gurgle of surprise, his long legs dangling off the side. Derren dropped to his knees to remove David's shoes and socks before getting up to remove his own. As he did so, David wriggled backwards to settle himself fully onto the center of the mattress, resting his head back on his hands, elbows pointing out to the sides.  
  
Derren slid off his own suit jacket and then clambered up to kneel over David, looking down at him. David appeared to have recovered a bit of his calmness, his breathing was even as he relaxed, that sly half-smile back on his lips, big, brown eyes wide and focused on Derren. He didn't need to say anything; he was waiting, yet again, for Derren to take the initiative with that frustrating combination of submission and challenge.   
  
Again, Derren's body clenched with the torrid rush of desire, his own eyes darkened as he stared down at the man spread out before him like a banquet. His move... and this time he knew exactly what he wanted to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Derren yanked David's shirt tails out of his pants and then pulled it further off his shoulders. David acquiesced enough to arch his back and lift his arms, but he was still letting Derren do all the work. That was fine with Derren for the time being, it gave him back a slight sense of being in control, even if he remained somewhat frustrated by the almost cool calmness in David's demeanor, a calmness that didn't change even as Derren unfastened and removed his pants, the remainder of his clothing, leaving David stretched out nude on Derren's bed.  
  
David seemed just as comfortable as he had been fully-clothed earlier, one hand tucked under his tousled head, the other laying by his side, one knee crooked up and to the side, the other leg stretched fully out. Those huge dark eyes remained intent, but uninterpretable, as they stared at Derren. He should have looked somehow vulnerable, his heavy, only semi-tumescent genitals on display, the long smooth lines of muscle laid bare, and yet David still seemed fully self-assured, confident in himself and his control of the situation. Meanwhile, Derren felt like he was about to explode between the nearly overwhelming desire that flamed through his own body combined with the sheer mental frustration of continually losing control of this situation.   
  
Derren Brown *never* lost control, damn it, he told himself, forcing a deep, slow breath. David was a challenge but Derren could handle it. He made himself slow down, using long familiar techniques to cool his own body down. With deliberation, he positioned himself over David, knees on either side of the man's thighs, hovering over him, holding the tension a moment longer, and another moment longer, making David wait. He ignored the fact that David appeared perfectly happy just to lay there.   
  
Derren had already determined that he was going to strip David of that rather irritating self-possession; he wanted to hear that gorgeous voice howl in need before this was over. However, he also wanted to make it last, to enjoy every moment he had with the body laid out beneath him. Slowly, slowly, he told himself, letting a slight smile of satisfaction curve his lips before lowering them to David's forehead.  
  
Derren nuzzled David's temples, kissed both of his eyes closed, licked gently across the high, delicate arches of his cheekbones, dipped his tongue into the depression between David's lower lip and the point of his jaw before finally claiming his mouth again. Again, he was slow, suckling on those full lips and playing darting games with David's tongue. He slid a hand through David's thick hair, caressing his scalp, rubbing behind his ears, across the back of his neck.   
  
He returned to those sensitive spots he'd located earlier, triumph lancing heat through his veins when he elicited the softest of moans with a swirl of his tongue over David's ear. Derren repeated the action, delighted when he was rewarded with the same hiss of breath that turned deeper, louder, when Derren seized an earlobe between his teeth and tugged on it. Oh yes, that was what he wanted to hear, only more, so much more.  
  
Derren worked his way, hands and mouth, down David's body, exchanging tongue and lips for fingertips wherever he won a sound, a shift of the body beneath him, cataloguing, memorizing each little gasp, the increasing volume of the groans. David's back arched upwards, his head jerking backwards, a strangled gurgle coming from his mouth as Derren suckled on one hard nub of a nipple and then the other. Derren stayed there for a while, teasing, then nipping, testing how much David would accept, struggling to hide his own reaction when strong hands closed on the back of his head, sliding through his own much shorter hair, pressing him, encouraging him.   
  
Those hands remained there, cradling his skull, not quite directing him, even as he moved further downward. David moaned louder as Derren teased the sides of his slender abdomen with light fingertips, dipped his tongue into his navel, and then rubbed his cheek against the now hard cock that arched, heavy, thick, flushed, over David's groin.  
  
Derren had to push upwards against David's grip to stop and appreciate, to take the pleasure of studying how gorgeous David's fully aroused body was, even as it strained instinctively towards him. Derren licked at his lips in anticipation while stroked one hand over the bony curve of a hip, fingers barely brushing taut inner thigh muscles. That faint touch won a loud, frustrated cry from David as his legs spread just a bit wider, knees tilting out to the side. Derren smiled to himself at finally hearing that edge of frustration, of desperation, in David's voice. Oh, he wanted more of that and sought it with the squeeze of one hand on a hard, rounded buttock and a stronger caress of the sensitive skin on David's thigh.   
  
Again and again, he was rewarded with what sounded like a symphony to Derren's ears, a low growl here, a high-pitched whine there, and finally his own name drawn out in long, thickly-accented syllables. That was the ultimate musical note Derren had been waiting for and his blood burned in his veins as he finally gave them both what they wanted, cupping one around the base of David's pulsing cock and reaching out with his tongue to steal a quick taste of the fluid weeping from the reddened tip.   
  
David tasted even better than he looked and once committed, Derren wasted no time in taking him deep into his mouth. David was big, too big to take all of him at once, even with Derren's experience, and Derren had to press his weight down on David's hips to pinion him to the bed to maintain his control of the situation. David's hips, body, flexed powerfully against Derren's grip on his hip. Derren's fingers dug deeply into fair skin, he was going to leave a bruise, something in him liked the thought, his own fiercely aroused body twitched in the confines of the clothing he was still wearing.  
  
But everything was focused solely on the taste and feel of David's cock in his mouth, the salty flavor, the pulse of his body, the stretched, silken skin. Derren concentrated on drawing every sensation he could, David's voice tumbling above him in a broken, half-obscene melody, the way David's entire body shuddered as he licked the length of a vein nearly from root to tip, lowered his free hand to cradle and squeeze David's swollen balls. Derren had to taste those too, kissing, licking, suckling before returning to encircle his mouth on as much of that large cock as he could, to begin a gentle motion that slowly increased, urged onward by the imprisoned thrusts of David's hips and the sliding grip of his hands on Derren's head, neck, and shoulder, long fingers digging in, demanding more, until with an incoherent scream, David shook and pulsed. His entire body stiffened with the rictus of ectasy as he filled Derren's mouth; Derren swallowed him down hungrily, sucked hard until David went utterly limp beneath him. Licked at him even a moment longer, savoring the taste - and the emotional triumph that accompanied it like a sweet dessert.   
  
Finally, Derren slid upward over David, covering his spent length with Derren's weight, cupping both of David's cheeks in his hands before leaning down to kiss him, letting David share the taste on his tongue. David showed no sign of being bothered by it; he returned the kiss lazily, eyes still closed.  
  
After another leisurely bout of kisses, Derren licked his way back to David's sensitive ear and whispered softly.  
  
"So does that count as a win?"   
  
There was light, yet teasing humor in David's slightly hoarse voice as he replied.  
  
"Maybe, but... who just sucked whose cock?"


End file.
